


take me out (& take me home)

by mightystranger (itiswhatitisbutterfly)



Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Bliss, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, this is just pure fluff to be honest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:21:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itiswhatitisbutterfly/pseuds/mightystranger
Summary: She stepped forward and carefully adjusted his pocket square with a practiced eye before smoothing her hands across his lapels. He would never get tired of her caring touches. Blair leant forward and kissed him, her hands moving toward his shoulders and his wrapping around her waist. “Thank you,” she said as they broke away. “For the eggs and sugar. And for everything else. I’ll give you a full thank you later.”Pure, simple, messy, dramatic, domestic married brilliance with Mr & Mrs Bass (as told by Taylor Swift's Lover)
Relationships: Chuck Bass/Blair Waldorf
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	take me out (& take me home)

**Author's Note:**

> There is no timeline to this - some of the 'scenes' are from newlywed days, some are while Blair is pregnant, after Henry and etc. Also, while I tried to tie scenes to lyrics of the songs.......I feel like some of them may only make sense to me. It is a very vague tie in sometimes, just go with it.

_We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January_ _  
This is our place, we make the rules_

The hustle and bustle of the day was well and truly over. The house was now silent and still. The last of their guests had been ushered out the front door. The bottom of the tree was now empty. The table had been cleared. But the warm smell of Christmas still lingered through the home like a thick blanket. It was cold outside but warm and content in. There was still an hour left on the clock.

Blair padded her bare feet up the hardwood stairs that twisted and turned toward the main bedroom. She carried her pair of heels in one hand. The other grazed across the garland covered banister that led the way.

She grabbed her pair of brand-new silk pyjamas from their spot boxed at the end of their bed. In her wardrobe she took a moment to slide off the dress she had worn for the day. It was easily draped over back of the large settee that sat in the middle of the room. It was too late to consider anything else like if it should be sent for dry cleaning. She kept her same deep red lingerie set on and slipped on the soft new sleep wear set over top. They were similarly a deep Christmas red with a green monogram on the chest. She padded her soft now slipper clad feet back down the hardwood stairs and toward the kitchen.

There was something sweet about this feeling. She hummed the tune of something joyful under her breath. The heart of their day had been filled with people and was a busy mosaic of loved ones, friends, and relatives. That was all over now, and this moment in the stillness, where they had the beauty of just basking in it, was for them. Her chest was full and warm. She followed the soft glow toward the kitchen and entered through the archway.

“Are you eating that straight from the pan?” Blair gasped at her husband. She was shocked at his lack of decorum but also that he still had the ability to fill his stomach any further. She then quickly noticed he had snuck away before her to also change his clothes. He too was wearing his new silk pyjama set that she had given him that morning. It matched hers as it was the same style with alternated Christmas colours.

She couldn’t help the pleasant schoolgirl blush that flooded her cheeks.

“It is good cake,” Chuck reasoned. “And it is the last piece,” he added for reassurance.

Blair smiled and walked around the island to join him. She easily snuggled into his side and wrapped her arounds around his middle to tug herself beside him. The pair stayed content in the embrace just basking in the glow of it all. “I’ll allow it,” Blair murmured. “Because I love you.”

There were still candles lit around the home and mistletoe out on every doorway. The kitchen had been cleaned but it still smelt like cinnamon and nutmeg. The home had a faint smell of pine from the real tree Chuck had insisted on.

“These are very nice,” Blair said as she stroked her hand across his chest and admired her gift. She knew he would always indulge her, there would never be a tradition he wouldn’t take on for her sake. However, at the same time, she knew he loved it just as much as she did. This was their life and they were beginning to fill it with memories and quirks.

“Likewise,” he responded.

She thought for a moment about how maybe next year she would need to buy a set of three and one day maybe four. There would be a moment in time, deep down the line where she would tell her children about their parents first Christmas in this house before they arrived.

Blair finished off the last of the cake while he poured them a night cap. They left the pan and the fork on the countertop to be worried about in the morning. There was still time left for their first Christmas.

“ _Miracle on 34 th Street_ or _It’s a Wonderful Life_?” she asked as she tugged him down onto the sofa.

-

_And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear_ _  
Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?_

Blair turned and politely took a champagne flute from the waiter who passed her. She thanked him and took a quick elegant sip. She had arrived early and solo. The night was young.

She listened to the ladies around her chatter. “I love her dress,” commented the woman to her right.

Blair followed her eyeline toward the woman in question far off on the other side of the room and she couldn’t help but agree. “I did see that at the show last fall. But I did prefer it in the black.”

The conversation continued around them and Blair scanned the room. It was filled with the typical crowd that a sought-after high society charity event would attract. It buzzed around her. The room was filled with big personalities, wallets, scandal and it didn’t capture her. There was always something missing if it was like this.

“I adore your necklace,” another woman complimented Blair.

The comment caught her attention and bought her back into their conversation. She offered her a polite smile while her free hand instantly went to touch the emeralds that hugged her neckline. She was sure she had met this woman somewhere before but couldn’t care less.

“Thank you,” Blair replied simply.

She fell out of the conversation again and sipped the champagne. She scanned the room hoping for some adventure. On his cue he appeared like a magnet in her eyeline.

The rest of the room slowed and drowned out as if it were a film. They were a cliché. It could be an epic tale or a romantic comedy. He was her broody byronic hero but her handsome romantic lead. It was the twisted fairy tale, the fallen angel and the devil redeemed. They were twin flames. They could be star crossed lovers. The plot could change depending on the night or they could spin it all together into one classic tale while the evening was still young and the moon high. Despite the mood, the plot or the script there were a few certain things that never changed. It was always them. They were always partners in crime. And best of all, they would always end up together.

He eyed her from across the room like it was the first time he had seen her. She felt him take in her legs, her thighs, and every curve of her body. Her body reacted like it was the first time and she melted under his gaze as if he were a curious stranger. There was a ball room filled with people but he was all she watched. He looked at her like he knew all her secrets, like he could read her mind and like he could twist her around his finger. She knew he felt the same of her.

They played a cold war. She brushed a hand against the nape of her neck while she knew he watched. He downed his drink and she stared. But it was him who broke it.

She felt a snaking hand brush up against her hip and spin her around. “Hello lover,” she whispered into the shell of Chuck’s ear as she leant in.

“What do you say we get out of here?” he replied.

-

_We could let our friends crash in the living room_ _  
This is our place, we make the call_

It was a quiet night. She was tucked up with Henry under his covers reading over one of his favourite picture books. The bedside lamp lit their way with a glow. They were halfway through the book about dogs when a resounding thud from downstairs interrupted them.

His big eyes grew a little wider as he turned up to look up at her. “What was that Mama?” he whispered, a little scared but very interested.

It would normally be frightening to hear a loud bump in the night. However, she knew better. It sounded like familiar trouble.

“I’m not sure. Let’s go find out.”

She scooped him up into her arms. In their matching pyjamas she carried him down the hall and the first set of twisting stairs. Blair and Henry stood themselves on the last step facing their entry way to take in the scene before them.

Blair sighed softly. Nathaniel Archibald laid face down flat on the marble floor of her foyer. Her guilty husband stared down at the scene before him and then up at his wife slowly.

“Uncle Nate is asleep on the floor,” Henry giggled with childlike innocence.

“I don’t think he is asleep Henry,” Blair replied, staring at her husband.

Chuck held up his hands in defence. But he had little defence with the scene before them.

“I’m fine. It’s all good,” Nate slurred doing his best to remedy the situation. He began to try his best to find his arms and support himself into a better position. It worked for a moment, but he was unable to get himself the entire way up.

“Chuck, don’t just stand there,” Blair groaned. She deposited Henry firmly on his feet onto the last step to move and shove Chuck toward their drunken friend. They worked together to each take an arm and get Nate into a semi standing position. For a second it reminds her of the day Nate and Blair had to drag Chuck into a church.

“I dragged him all the way inside,” Chuck grumbled. It took a lot of work to even get here, it should be acknowledged. “I could’ve put him in a cab.”

They both knew he never would.

“I said take him out for _one_ drink. I didn’t mean get him black out drunk.”

“I didn’t realise it was this bad,” Chuck mumbled under his breath, slightly afraid his drunken friend would hear. At least if he did, he was sure he wouldn’t remember tomorrow. The same way he was sure Nate wouldn’t remember trying to drunk dial Serena. “Move him to the living room.”

They slump him onto their comfiest sofa, neither one prepared to try drag him multiple sets of stairs to get up to the spare room. Blair looked at Nate as he stretched out and then curled up between the cushions. It dawned on her the gravity of the situation. Serena really was marrying Dan. She didn’t realise it was this bad.

“He is not taking her engagement well,” she sighed as she allowed her motherly instincts kick in. “I better grab him a blanket. Can you get him some water?”

The always inquisitive Henry who followed straight after them stares at his now soundly sleeping Uncle. “Can I sleep here too?” he asked as he tried to climb up next to Uncle Nate.

“Nope. You’ve got your bed waiting for you,” Chuck said as he ruffled his hair before picking him up into his arms to stop him in his tracks. He tickled his side and Henry giggled all the way back towards the said bed.

-

_And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you_ _  
I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all_

There was something about summer. There was something about her. The combination was deadly especially under the Tuscan sun. It was the perfect recipe for a fight as their mid-year escape drew to an end.

Blair stormed up and out of her chair and then the restaurant. Her heels hit each cobblestone beneath them with rage. It was hot and humid but like her mood the sky looked like it was threatening to erupt.

“You can be a real embarrassment sometimes! Did you know that?” Blair shouted directly at him, as she spun on her heels and charged off.

There was a pair of strangers who sent her a look from across the street but most of the crowds in the late evening glow didn’t pass the bickering pair another look. They were another quarrelling young couple among the passionate summer crowds.

Chuck scoffed at the remark. “Embarrassment?”

He grabbed her attention but just as quickly Blair groaned at his indifference and turned from him to walk away. She continued down the cobblestoned street and kept talking. She knew he would follow. “Yes. You don’t have to act like some jealous child if another man looks at me.”

“He was all over you!”

There are two sides to every story. In this case, there were three if you counted the charming but innocent Italian waiter. Blair enjoyed his kind words and laughed a little louder than normal. He was beautiful, interesting and helpful. And she was blissfully happy, warm and content on holiday.

“Come on Blair,” Chuck pleaded as he felt her ignoring him.

“He was doing his job,” she spat back. Chuck had caught up to her and Blair did her best to avoid looking at him. If she did and saw his face she knew it would either melt her or fuel her.

“I don’t think flirting with you is in his job description.”

She refused to look. “Oh, and is it just in yours?”

“I am not going to apologise about reminding everyone we’re married.”

“And then sticking your hand up my dress?” Blair shot back as she finally turned to look at him and his smug shit eating grin.

“That bit was for us,” he replied with a wink. And she knew he had her. “You’ll ruin your shoes if you keep at this game,“ Chuck added for good measure. He realised he had her.

“And yours too,” Blair added. There was a little fight left but it was melting away.

He smiled at that. She let him get closer to her until he was wrapping her up in his arms. She stopped trying to escape and gave in. Damn Chuck Bass, damn him to hell.

“You love me being an embarrassing jealous husband,” he whispered. “And I love you when you’re a brat who relies me up.”

It was hot. The night was warm, and the fight and escaping had them both flushed. Blair leant up to kiss him softly still on the cobblestones. “You’re the brat. You never learnt to share.”

Chuck shot her a dark look. “I don’t have to.”

She kissed away his moody expression. “And now because of it we need to find another restaurant.”

_-_

_Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?_ _  
With every guitar string scar on my hand_

“Would you like it boxed and wrapped, Mr Bass?”

He nodded in response to the well manner and spoken sales assistant. Chuck fished his card out and handed it over.

Blair was understandably exhausted. They were out in Paris for the week while she tied up some loose ends with Eleanor before she was officially grounded in New York. The imminent arrival of their son was drawing closer every day. The small Chanel handbag she had been craving alongside a selection of macarons would hopefully bring some calm for the remaining two days of their trip. Otherwise, it would at least bring a smile to her face.

He waited patiently for them to wrap and box, so turned to admire the other offerings on display. The store was quiet as it was an odd time of the day, but he instantly noted a pair across the room huddled close to the jewellery flanked by a security guard. He had not noticed them enter.

It was an unexpected location and time to run into a battle wound. He could tell the profile of Louis Grimaldi without looking twice. The woman who accompanied him was thin tall and brunette. She towered over him and pawed at his arm. Chuck refused to allow himself to feel anything toward this man and purposefully refused Louis any free real estate in his mind. But he hadn’t been able to ignore the small headline he had seen a month or two ago. He knew instantaneously this must be the new wealthy and still younger socialite he had become engaged to. The obnoxiously large pink diamond on her finger confirmed as such. It glittered and gleamed as she moved her hand.

“Mr Bass, your purchase is ready.”

He turned and collected the bag from the assistant along with his card. “Thank you.”

In the depths of his hatred he had imagined this day hundreds of times over. He had signed his name on cheque that paid that man an eye watering figure and wanted to swear he would one day twist it back out of him for enjoyment. He had wished to induce the amount of pain Blair had suffered back on him.

But in the reality of the moment, he felt nothing. He was nothing. And he was not worth it.

Chuck was sure in the small store he had seen him as they entered or at least heard the sales assistant call his name. He paid them no attention and thanked the assistant at the door before exiting to the waiting car.

It was a short drive back to Cyrus and Eleanor’s apartment. Blair was slumped on the sofa in the sitting room that adjoined their guest suite. She rightfully barely moved to greet him but her face lit up.

“Hello beautiful,” Chuck greeted. He leant down to peck her against the lips and while he rubbed a soft palm against her bump.

“Hi. I missed you,” she responded into the kiss. She quickly noticed his bag and then made quick work of the packaging after she stole it from his grip. The smile on her face was worth it. “I’ll have to cancel my waitlisted order, they told me I couldn’t get it for another three weeks!”

“I pulled a lot of strings,” he smirked. “That was your waitlisted order.”

She didn’t have to say it because he already knew it, but he knew her too well. He watched her pull open the macarons. If it was possible her face lit up a little brighter again. “How did you know?” she gasped sarcastically.

She pulled one out and fed it to him before taking one for her own and munching on it. If there was ever a good time to approach a difficult topic with a very pregnant Blair it was while eating.

“I ran into someone today,” he started casually.

Blair lifted an eyebrow in interest while she continued to eat. The baby wriggled and she pressed her palm against her side to rub the spot. “Who?”

“Louis.”

She screwed her face up and stopped her chewing. “Oh god,” she sighed. “What did you do to him?”

It was the reaction he had imagined. Chuck couldn’t help but let out a small laugh and shake his head. He went to speak but was interrupted as Blair grabbed his hand and pressed it up against her midsection.

“Feel this,” she said as their hands joined and rested against her. The baby pushed up against them repetitively.

“Is that an elbow?”

“I think so,” Blair laughed. They sat in silence for a moment with both of their gazes fixed on their hands and the tiny little movements.

“Don’t try blame this athleticism on me,” Chuck stated.

She smiled down at him before rolling her eyes and eating another macaron. It brought her back to reality and she remembered for a second the conversation at hand. “Louis?”

Chuck was again reminded of his unimportance and insignificance. He shrugged. “He was out shopping with some woman. I just saw him in passing, I’m sure he would’ve seen me.”

Blair nodded and screwed her face up a little. “An Italian oil heiress.”

She made no secret of her prediction that she was sure he would be married and divorced at least three times before the age of forty.

“I always thought if I saw him I would give him a few words. But I just didn’t care, he isn’t worth it. I could just think about coming home.”

- _  
I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover_

Chuck made quick work of tying his velvet bow tie. It was a mastered skill that he could do with his eyes closed. In the reflection of the mirror in their shared wardrobe he watched her appear behind him. Blair slipped her hand around to adjust the finished bow tie slightly and then smoothed the hand down his lapel.

“You look devastating,” Chuck said not missing a beat. She was never not perfect, but there was something they loved about black tie. Blair wore a full length matching black velvet dress. “Like always.”

“My wonderful man,” she sighed blissfully. He turned toward her and she placed a palm against his cheek. “You close a deal before noon, wrangle those children of ours into bed, and still try to come close to out dressing me.”

“All only made possible because of you,” he replied earnestly.

She smiled up at him. She didn’t need the mirror to recognise the way her eyes shone. They overflowed with love and appreciation. He really did make her impossibly happy. This life of theirs was impossibly happy.

“Are you ready to leave?”

She nodded earnestly. They hovered past doors to ensure everyone was still fast asleep, and then made their way out the front door and into the car for the evening. There were big crowds, photographers and pomp and circumstance.

Blair rose and he squeezed her hand before letting go. She walked to the podium and for the first time during the evening it really truly hit her. She felt sixteen again. He was seeking her critical eye and natural business sense to read his proposal. She was looking over the fittings of a bar. She felt seventeen again reminding him he could do exactly this and convincing him to believe and try. She felt eighteen. She was looking up at The Empire as he reminded her she believed in him. It was so similar but so different.

She followed her notes line by line that recounted successes and victories. She then placed them to the side. “If I continue I could spend the entire evening talking about the achievements of the last 10 years and we will never leave.”

The room murmured with a little cheerful laughter.

“I’ll finish with a few words dedicated to the man behind some much of it,” Blair smiled down as her notes for a second and looked back up. “Be not afraid of growing slowly; be afraid only of standing still. We are not going in circles; we are going upwards.”

“To my husband. If there is ever a time to look back on how far you have come and grown it is now. I once told you that you carried people and that is as true today as it was then. Your career and financial achievements are the proof of that, but more importantly our greatest gifts are. Thank you for all that you do and the strengths you possess. Our family is lucky to have you. Most people do not know how privately modest you - the _King of New York_ , can be - you take any and all chances to credit me for all of your successes, and while flattering – “

The crowd laughed.

“I can’t accept them without first admitting so many of my achievements are also intertwined with you. We’ve always been better together. I couldn’t be half as strong without you and all you do in keeping me sane and loved. I’ll take the credit in doing the same for you. At twenty my Mother asked me to take on a job from her, you were the only person in the world I wanted to tell. I knew then and now all I ever wanted was for us to share our successes together. I am so thankful to be here doing just that tonight.”

She felt sixteen again struggling with who she was supposed to be in a world where she felt so unloved. She was still the girl just freshly seventeen feeling special for the first time. She felt eighteen lost in a new world but so loved and carried. She still knew she was the most powerful woman he knew even if she was no longer twenty. She was powerful in her small and big business victories. She was powerful as they placed her little boy in her arms after 8 hours. She was powerful when she cried and when she laughed. She was powerful standing right there celebrating him and them.

“I am so extremely proud of you. Our family is ridiculously proud of you. And the company is extremely proud of you.” She raised her glass. “I toast to the next 10 years.”

- _  
My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue  
All's well that ends well to end up with you_

Henry had spread out his papers and pens across the floor of his Mother’s home office like he did most Fridays. It was their special time, which was even more important now he was two short months away from being a big brother. Blair would leave work early to collect him from school and finish up any outstanding work at home. He had the freedom to roam the house but Henry adored just spending his afternoon with her.

He plucked a carrot from the plate of sliced vegetables next to him and leant down to give his drawing a finishing touch. With one hand he finished his snack and with the other he completed his drawing of the park. In the picture the sun was shining just like it had been the weekend his grandparents visited. It now just needed one final addition. Henry fished through his blank papers and found one that would work.

Blair furiously hit the keyboard as she responded to an urgent email. Henry listened to make sure she wasn’t on the phone before pulling himself up and walking over. “Mama,” he said as he offered her a pen and the paper. “Can you write out my name? I need to copy.”

The inept email was instantly forgotten. She smiled down at Henry and took the offering. “Of course, baby,” she said with a smile. “Can I see what you are making?”

He watched as she began to write to ensure she was doing it correctly before he nodded and went back to collect the drawing. Blair printed his first name out in bold easy to copy letters on the blank sheet.

Henry returned and his inquisitive eyes took in her offering. “No,” he sighed. “All of it.”

Blair had to stop herself from laughing at how sometimes it felt as if she were talking to the mirror. He was smart, sweet, funny but so determined and particular. “Do you want your full name?”

Henry smiled sweetly. “Yes,” he said. “Please,” he added after he remembered his manners. He watched her carefully as she wrote it out with perfect ease.

“There you go,” she said as she handed it back. “Can I take a look now?”

Henry nodded but his eyes were fixed on the name and she could see the cogs turning in his little head. He was ridiculously intuitive. “This one,” he said pointing to his middle name. “How do you read it?”

Blair smiled. “Charles,” she said slowly.

His little eyebrows furrowed with familiarity at the middle name he hardly heard used. He tried to copy her by saying it back and he ran his finger across the letters as if he was trying to memorise it. Once he was satisfied Henry turned to look at his mother again. “Where did it come from?” he asked. Henry loved a question game.

“It is Daddy’s name,” Blair responded.

“No,” Henry replied.

She laughed. “Yes, he gave it to you.”

He was still unsatisfied, and his brows remained furrowed as he worked out the implications. Henry placed his drawing on the desk so Blair could look it over.

“You drew this all on your own?” she asked with awe. Her little perfectionist had taken his time to create a beautiful vibrant drawing of the park and their family. “It’s wonderful Henry.”

He nodded with a smile but picked it up alongside the paper with his name. “But it isn’t finished.”

Henry spent the next ten minutes painstakingly copying each letter as best he could to spell out his name along the bottom of the page. Blair left him alone but kept peaking over her laptop to watch his concentration. She was watching as he finished off the last letter, carefully inspected his work and then admired it. “Is it finished now?”

“Yes,” he proudly announced.

“Is it for me?” Blair asked. She was pretty sure she knew what the answer was going to be.

“It’s for Daddy,” he replied with certainty.

She gave him a dramatic pout until he giggled. Henry abandoned his drawing, papers and pens to scramble up toward her and attempt climb onto her lap. “Don’t be sad Mama,” he said. Blair tried her best to balance him on her knee and against the baby bump. He gave her a kiss on her cheek and threw his arms around her neck.

That was where he stayed for the remainder of their afternoon. He talked all about his day and was even allowed to press a few buttons and provide some opinions on some colour swatches.

The pair were so engrossed they missed any sounds of the front door opening, Monkey barking downstairs or footsteps on the stairwell. The door to the office swung open and Henry saw his favourite person.

“Daddy!” Henry shouted, as he wiggled himself off Blair’s lap and scampered across the room into his arms. Chuck picked him up with practiced ease and tucked him up under one arm. Blair rolled her eyes a little, Henry was getting far too big for this.

“Are you ready for our walk?” his Father asked him as he ruffled his hair. Henry nodded.

“No,” Blair said as she crossed her arms. “You need to clean up first.”

Henry gave a small pout as he was placed back on the floor firmly on his feet. “You heard Mom.”

He followed the rules and carefully grabbed his pens, pencils and crayons to stuff them in their boxes. Chuck took the time to step closer to Blair and give her a much-needed kiss after a tiring day.

“I missed you,” he said as they broke apart.

“Did your day not go well?” Blair asked curiously as she read his mood.

“No,” he replied cryptically and quietly to avoid changing the mood of the room. “We can discuss it later.”

They both darted their eyes across the room to the floor as Henry scrambled around to clean up as quickly as he possibly could. These were undeniably his favourite parts of the week and there was nothing either of them would ever do to spoil the mood.

Chuck stepped aside to open the double doors that connected their offices. He moved into his own to discard of his briefcase on his desk. He entered Blair’s office again as Henry was finishing. He stood up proudly with his drawing and help it up high toward his father. “I made it,” he said with pride.

“Aren’t I lucky?” his father said as he took it into his own hand. “I think this one can live on the wall at work.”

The picture was left on the office desk awaiting safe delivery on Monday. Henry located his shoes and managed to get them on while Chuck clipped a collar on Monkey. They closed the front door soundly behind them.

Henry held his hand and swung the other by his side. He knew if he was well behaved once they got to the park and past the streets, he could use the free hand to lead Monkey. And as they walked, Henry talked.

“What was the best part of the school day?”

Henry chewed his bottom lip and tilted his head to the side in thought. “Music,” he decided. “After lunch we played music. I had the tambourine.”

“And did you sing?”

He nodded and smiled. “Yes! I was the best.”

They entered the park and Henry enthusiastically asked, “Can I walk Monkey now?”

Chuck crouched down to pass him the lead and wound it around his hand snugly. Monkey watched on and waited patiently. “Alright. Be careful,” Chuck said looking at them both. He was the most docile dog and he only got softer with age, it was Henry and his love of running off to the playground that was the worry.

“Of course,” Henry said with a nod. He patted Monkey on the head and scratched behind his ear. “I love you Monkey.”

They continued walking at the same pace now through the park. “Daddy,” Henry said suddenly. “Why is Monkey called Monkey?”

He asked it with curiosity like for the first time he was realising the humour in their dog being named after another animal.

“I always asked for a Monkey when I was about your age,” Chuck replied. “But you couldn’t have pets in a hotel. I thought it would be good to name him after that.”

Henry giggled until his expression softened as he imagined a life without his beloved pet. “Monkey loves hotels,” Henry commented, he still loved to go say hello to his favourite employees at The Empire. He thought about names a little more as they followed the pathway through the trees.

“Does the baby have a name?”

“Not yet.”

“What about your name?” he asked with further curiosity. His little mind had thought it over with interest that afternoon.

“What about it?” Chuck replied with practiced calmness.

“Where did it come from?”

The truth was he was not entirely sure. He had resented his name. Then made it his own and use it for all its worth. And eventually just been content. “I don’t really know, I think my father picked it. Probably because it sounds like it is fit for a king.”

“And my name?” Henry asked again.

He smiled at that question. “Mommy picked it. There was a Henry who she saved once,” he said as he thought his words over carefully. “She ran away from a big party and from a prince – “

Henry furrowed his brow with suspicion.

“- She went to find Henry and she saved him. You reminded her of him.”

Henry pictured it. He imagined his beautiful mother dressed like a queen running from a castle to save the day. It could be real. But it also sounded like something out of a bedtime story. “That sounds made up,” he huffed.

-

_Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover_

He slammed the front door behind him. He was the most stubborn, arrogant, strong willed, conceited person she had ever had the misfortune of meeting. Blair threw the paint swatches on the ground and groaned in frustration. She placed her hands on her hips and began pacing. He was so frustrating.

She continued to pace around the empty house and took deep breaths. After the initial shock, the realisation began to settle in. He was correct that three weeks ago she had agreed to the alabaster white for the walls. The painters had started and now she was completely at odds about the choice. Blair was now stuck on if the cotton white would be a better selection. And because of that she was trying to start a war.

It didn’t matter though in the end. It wasn’t about the paints. It was her horrific need for things to be perfect. It was his horrific need for things to be perfect. But it was also her stubborn refusal to work as a team in this moment.

Blair huffed out the breath she had been holding. He was right that if she just spoke with him to begin with, they would have avoided this whole fiasco. Even now, after all this time, she hated to admit he might be right about her faults. 

She tapped her heels against the hardwood floor that was still covered in a thick paper to protect it from splatters. The seconds crept into minutes as she waited for a sound. It never came and she began to accept eventually that it was her that would need to waive the white flag. Blair balled her hands into fists as she walked toward where her handbag was resting on the kitchen countertop. She fished her phone out and hit the one to speed dial him.

“Do you miss me already?” Chuck answered as cool, calm and collected as ever. She hated it. She loved him.

“Apparently I do,” Blair responded. “I am calling to say I may have been _slightly_ out of line.”

“Is that all?”

She sighed. “Please come back. Where are you?”

Chuck waited a beat. “I’m just outside the front door,” he replied.

Blair wasted no time in charging out of the kitchen, down the hall and out the front door to find him casually slumped against the railing of the steps. She stared at his casual nonchalant attitude and crossed arms.

“Good work,” she said. “You won.”

He smirked before putting an arm out and tugging her closer. Blair moved with ease toward him but pouted the whole way. “I do apologise about calling you a tyrant,” Chuck said his words fully laced with sincerity.

“I apologise about starting it,” Blair replied. “Are we always going to be like this?”

He smiled. “I think so, it seems to be what we signed up for.”

Blair laughed, he wasn’t wrong. “In sickness and in health? In our most stubborn and dramatic?”

“We didn’t even have vows, but yes,” Chuck replied. “At least now we take 10 minutes to make up, opposed to 10 days.”

“Look at us,” Blair sighed. “All domestic and mature. It is getting me feverish.”

- _  
And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me_

For Mother’s Day Blair woke to breakfast in bed, a room filled with peonies and a set of framed family portraits. Alongside that, her six-month-old baby was as sweet as ever which was a gift in itself. He laid between them playing with toys as her favourite film played and she ate strawberries, raspberries and blueberries.

It was all she needed and for a sweet hour it was bliss. Eventually the film finished, breakfast was all eaten, and Henry fell asleep. Chuck scooped him up gently and promised to deliver him to his crib peacefully.

Blair slid out of bed and grabbed her favourite silk robe. She wrapped herself up and looked at her beautiful gifts. She was expecting the pictures as they had planned them, but the flowers were a perfect additional surprise. After a minute Chuck snuck back into the bedroom empty handed.

“Is he still asleep?” Blair asked softly.

“Yes, he didn’t wake at all,” he replied. He made his was toward his side of the bed and crouched below to pull out another box. “I saved the best for last.”

Blair smirked and tired not to let her greed show too much. He could give her a million gifts and he would always know it would always be more than enough and never enough. She deserved it all. “Diamonds?” Blair teased.

“Not quite, those are for birthdays.”

She hummed in agreement as she waltzed around to him. The box was non-descript and had no tell-tale signs. Blair arched an eyebrow and titled her head as she sat down on the side of their large master bed. Chuck watched her as she pulled at the bow that tied it all together. The ribbon fell to the sides and she tugged off the lid of the box.

On the top of the tissue sat an envelope that she softly picked up. Blair flipped it over to fish out the letter inside. Her eyes scanned the card as she read it, _“For my wife, the ultimate MILF – C.”_

She could guess what the gift was now. Blair let out a tiny giggle and shook her head.

“Do you deny it?” Chuck asked.

Blair eyed him as she continued to tug at the tissue paper and unwrap the gift.

Her hands finally revealed the present. She pulled out a matching garter, thigh highs, corset and lingerie set. She admired them. “Never,” she replied looking up at him with a look that she knew would drive him insane.

- _  
And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover_

The morning had not gone well, which meant the day was on track to end dramatically. It was looking like it would be a typical Upper East Side Thanksgiving.

Chuck returned from the urgent grocery store run to a noisy home. He toed off his shoes quickly as he closed the front door behind him. Like always Monkey sniffed to inspect where he had been and presented his head for a pat. He found the remnants of the busy isles and queues on his owner surprising as he leant in for a quick scratch.

There was only two people he would do that for.

Blair noticed him as soon as he walked into their large kitchen and hurried to steal his purchases from him with eager hands. “Thank you,” she sighed. She would save the proper thank you kiss for later. There was no time.

The kitchen was frantic and alive. There were caterers and staff buzzing. But clearer than that Chuck saw a determined and frustrated Blair trying to make a pumpkin pie from scratch. Henry sat dutifully on the island counter in his perfect burnt orange sweater holding a bowl that was waiting on the eggs and sugar that were just delivered.

“Are you alright?” Chuck asked sincerely. He took in the way her hair was thrown up in a very messy bun, the little bit of a flour on her forehead and the flush on her cheeks. Henry looked between them with his big perfect brown eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Yes,” Blair responded with resound determination.

The three of them stared at each other in silence as the kitchen hummed wordlessly around them. Did she take him for a fool? There was clearly something brewing inside.

“No,” she finally sighed as she threw her hands across her face with a huff. “I am terrible at making this ridiculous pie without Daddy. I shouldn’t have left Dorota off. Serena just called, her and Dan aren’t talking so she is a disaster. My Mother just berated me for looking like such a mess. And I forgot about the eggs and sugar, what kind of mother am I?”

He pulled her closer to him instantly and against his chest. “You’re the best kind. And those are all valid but easily fixable issues,” he reasoned. “You have the right ingredients now and the world’s best sous chef.”

She smiled for the first time in hours. “That is true,” she said as she leant over to pinch Henry’s cheek. He giggled against it.

“Is Serena still coming?”

“I managed to talk her into it, it was no easy task,” Blair responded. It hadn’t been quick or simple, but she did manage to convince her coming alone would be better than a miserable lonely day. 

“Problem solved. And, I’ll get Eleanor and Cyrus drunk.”

He found them in the sitting room and walked right in confident he could remedy the situation. He was sure Eleanor’s words were harsh but unintentional, just fuelled by jetlag, hunger and frustration that Blair was stealing away the attention of a much-loved grandson. It was nothing alcohol wouldn’t be able to fix.

“Eleanor, Cyrus. How was the flight?” he asked full of charm and concern.

Cyrus stood to offer a hug and Chuck politely accepted. He was still an amateur when it came to affection from another other than Blair and Henry. “Perfect blue skies!” Cyrus responded as he let him go.

“Let me get you both a drink,” he announced. There were no protests from the pair. He disappeared for a few minutes and arrived back with filled glasses for them both. “Blair and Henry are almost finished up.”

“Thank you, Charles,” Eleanor offered with a small smile.

After being was satisfied that particular storm was under control Chuck snuck back into the kitchen. He found Blair and Henry sliding the pie dish into a hot waiting oven. He also found Serena Van der Woodsen teary eyed and waiting.

“He just never compromises,” Serena sighed sadly. “Is it so terrible that just for one year I wanted us to do what I planned?”

Blair gritted her teeth as she put the timer on. She bit her tongue as she pulled her apron off. “It isn’t. Your annoyance is perfectly justifiable.”

Henry peered up on his tip toes to watch as the warmth of the oven began to bake the pie. His Father appeared crouched down beside him on the floor. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes,” he nodded with a big grin. “I mixed it.”

“You are very smart, aren’t you? Next year you’ll be doing it all on your own.”

He scooped him up into his arms as his mother continued her animated conversation with Serena. Henry loved days like this when all of his favourite people showed up, he got the best piggyback rides from Serena.

“Chuck,” Blair said breaking her monologue to Serena. She stared at the pair trying to escape out of the kitchen. “Henry needs to get dressed.”

Henry is dressed with lightning speed and back downstairs into his grandmothers arms in a flash. Chuck and Blair pass each other in the hall as Blair pushes Serena upstairs to freshen up. It triggers something in the back of his mind. He has no idea if Nate is bringing his new girlfriend or not. He makes a quick phone call to confirm it.

Blair is surveying the table setting and name cards as he approaches her. “New crisis,” he announces. “Nate is bringing Vivian.”

“She’s horrible, I left her off the guest list for a reason. I don’t have a setting for her!”

“She is, but we have to ride this one out. I’ll have it rearranged, we have room.”

Like all messes, it eventually finds a way to work itself out. Chuck gently opened the door to the bathroom to catch her putting the finishing touch on her hair. She catches his intrusion and turned to give him a thankful smile. Despite it all, she looked flawlessly put together and clam. “Did I just see Humphrey downstairs?”

“Yes. Don’t talk to him, just act civil. Can you believe this?” she asked wistfully and with a little laughter in her tone. “This is our life. This is our family.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he responded without missing a beat. 

Blair considered it for a moment. She knew that the first Thanksgiving he remembered was spent in Turks and Caicos. Bart’s girlfriend at the time hated the cold and wanted the beach. It was memorable for the fact that it had zero resemblance of a real thanksgiving he had quickly realised. He had nothing to contribute to the chatter about the parade, or family dinners.

“Well, you did say life with us would never be boring,” Blair said. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

She stepped forward and carefully adjusted his pocket square with a practiced eye before smoothing her hands across his lapels. He would never get tired of her caring touches. Blair leant forward and kissed him, her hands moving toward his shoulders and his wrapping around her waist. “Thank you,” she said as they broke away. “For the eggs and sugar. And for everything else. I’ll give you a full thank you later.”

She left him to fix his own hair and warned him to be down in a few minutes. Blair made her way downstairs and toward the sitting room where she caught a glimpse of Henry telling the end of an animated tale to Cyrus. She offered him her hand and he willingly grabbed it. “Are you ready for dinner?”

-

_Can I go where you go?_ _  
Can we always be this close forever and ever?  
And ah, take me out, and take me home  
You're my, my, my, my lover_

She moved her eyes slowly and tilted her head to look at him. There were city lights dancing across the back seat and both of them. The city was alive, but it really did feel like in the moment they were the only two in it.

“Thanks for the lift home,” she said. It wasn’t whisper but it could have been, the words felt so private as they left her lips. It was a secret world she had entered the minute she stepped into that club. There were no outsiders. There was only them. She watched his reaction carefully as he watched her. It had been the same look all night. The look lit her up, it was like electricity the feeling of being wanted. She waited for the reply.

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE thank you to the people I follow on twitter who always refer to Blair as a milf, you inspired me and helped me finish this after I got stuck.


End file.
